The Bet
by Kyle Babeflovski
Summary: At this point in his life, Kyle should know better than to make any bets with Cartman. ((One sided Kyman if you squint, oneshot.))


"I don't even know why you want to make this bet, Cartman." Kyle said, the faint blush on his cheeks from the initial embarrassment of the idea of the bet fading.

"Yeah dude, why the fuck do you want to see Kyle in a cheerleading outfit? I thought Butters was the gay one, not you." Stan asked, looking mildly disturbed yet slightly amused.

"Shut the fuck up you guys! I don't want to see Kahl in a cheerleading outfit. I want to take pictures of him in one." Cartman replied, rolling his eyes.

"That's even worse! Why the fuck do you want to take pictures? I'm going to give you the chance to explain, mainly because I really don't want to think of you jacking it to pictures of me." Kyle sneered, face bright red again.

"Fucking SICK, Kahl. Why would I want to jack off to your scrawny jew-ass? I want to spread the pictures around the school to humiliate you, obviously." He huffed.

"If you wanted to do that why would you make such a stupid bet? There's no way you can get a higher score than Kyle on this math test, Cartman. He's never dropped below an A in math, and you can barely maintain a D." Stan said, frowning.

"Because there's really no consequence if I lose, Kyle just doesn't get humiliated. Big whoop, I come up with another plan and we all forget about it. I mean really, It'd be kinda stupid for me to not do it."

"Wait, let me get this straight, if I lose, you get to take pictures of me in a cheerleading outfit. But if you lose, nothing happens? How is that fair?"

"Fine Kahl. How much money do you want if I lose?" Cartman asked, reaching for his wallet.

"What makes you think I want money?" Kyle arched an eyebrow.

"You're a jew?" Cartman said flatly. "I got twenty on me right now. That's the most I'll give you."

Kyle considered this for a moment, before deciding that the odds were definitely in his favor this time, and shook Cartman's outstretched hand. "Get ready to get your ass kicked, fatass." He said, smirking.

"We'll see Kyle. We'll see."

Monday came, and with it came Mr. Garrison's final math test before winter break. The four boys (Kenny had been "out sick" the day the bet was initially formed. Stan had filled him in on it later though.) had made sure to keep the bet a secret at Cartman's request that, on the off chance that he did win, it would be more humiliating for Kyle if everyone else thought it was unprovoked.

Needless to say, despite getting nothing but great grades in math, Kyle was wracked with nervousness. Cartman, less so, though if he lost the stakes were lower, so perhaps it was reasonable.

The hour ticked by and Kyle was the first one done with the test, while Cartman was among the last few, everything went by as usual. When the class broke for lunch, Cartman pushed by Kyle with a whisper of "Prepare for humiliation Kahl." Kyle rolled his eyes and continued to walk to the cafeteria.

The next day the tests had been graded, and when Kyle got his back he frantically flipped through the packet to see if he missed any. He sighed in relief when he discovered that he hadn't and had gotten a perfect 100.

"Looks like I win jewboy. Better shave your legs tonight, guys don't dig hairy legs." Cartman laughed slamming his test on Kyle's desk.

"No way dude I got a perfect sc-" Kyle stopped in the middle of his retort at the sight of a simple phrase at the top of the page.

'+2 extra credit'

"You'd be amazed at what actually studying and sucking up to a teacher can do. Meet me after school in the boy's bathroom, 4:00, handicap stall. You better show, juden"

Kyle's stomach dropped and he made a beeline for said handicapped stall and promptly threw up into it.

Four o'clock rolled around and Kyle, having previously learned it was probably in his best interest to fulfil his end of any bets he makes with Cartman, showed up in the boys bathroom, his stomach in knots.

Sure enough, Cartman was leaning up against the wall, plastic bag hanging of his arm, looking as smug as ever. Kyle gulped and stepped through the doorway.

"Ah, Kyle. I was beginning to wonder if you weren't going to show." He tossed the bag to him. "Put that on in one of the stalls."

Kyle darted into the farthest stall from Cartman and rifled through the bag. "What the fuck is this?" He snapped, pulling out a lacy black bra and dangling it over the stall door.

"It's a bra Kahl. We can't have your perky little tits flying everywhere can we? It's part of the outfit, you gotta wear it." Cartman said, laughter evident in his voice.

Kyle groaned and threw the outfit on, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

When he was finished he slowly unlocked the stall door, and feeling more self conscious than normal, stepped out.

"Nice legs Kahl. Now get in the stall." Cartman grinned and pulled him into the larger stall.

"Whatever, let's get this over with." Kyle muttered, face bright red.

"Smile for the camera!" Cartman giggled, snapping pictures with his phone.

When Cartman eventually decided he had taken enough pictures, he let Kyle out of the stall and handed him his clothes. Never in his life had Kyle remembered changing as fast as he did.

"Pleasure doin' business with you Kahl." Cartman laughed as Kyle ran out the door.

**A/N: Bet you guys didn't know I ship Kyman too. Inspired by: art/30-Day-OTP-Challenge-28-kyman-328036589**

**I'm really just trying to get out of my writers block. This was written at 3 am don't blame me.**


End file.
